


Mad World - Familiar faces

by ambientbliss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Depression, Derek cares, Flashbacks, Gen, Post-Nogitsune, Scott's a sucky friend sometimes, Self-Harm, Self-Loathing, Stiles Needs a Hug, This is different than before., Underage Drinking, attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6592777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambientbliss/pseuds/ambientbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UnBeta'd.<br/>Takes place after the season 5a Ep 10. Stiles does not make it to his father in time to save him, and he dies.</p><p>Stiles isn't handling things well. No one would, but the left over darkness from the Nogitsune is not helping. He reaches for help and Derek answers. Will Scott and Derek be able to help get Stiles back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mad World - Familiar faces

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr for more fanfic's and other Teen Wolf Stuff!!!
> 
> halestil24.tumblr.com

Stiles sat in the empty home. It was still hard to believe that he was the only one left of his little family. He was thankful that his father’s life insurance paid off the mortgage and then got his Jeep fixed. Without him being 18 yet the courts wanted him to be sent to his Aunt’s house but with so many people offering to take him in the courts allowed him to stay in Beacon Hills. Jordan Parrish, who quickly stepped up as Sheriff, would check on him daily until it was apparent that Stiles didn’t want him too. 

Stiles was a bright kid, some of his teachers would even say that if he could have kept his mouth shut that he would have been considered a genius. The school board took all of that into question, and then granted him an early graduation. He would be able to skip the rest of senior year. Stiles didn’t tell anyone about it. In fact he refused to speak to anyone. 

The harshness of losing his father to a complete monster, who he never trusted from the moment he saw him tore through him like a sharp blade. But it wasn’t only that. The words Theo spoke with vigor to Stiles before telling him his father was in danger kept ringing in Stiles’ head. Honestly it was the only thing he could seem to focus on lately. “You are still Void.” Those four words always made his heart race, panic set in on his chest. It would usually end in Stiles screaming that he wasn’t, then throwing something across the room. 

The boy always expected his father to walk into the room to see what all the commotion was, or to know that he was starting to have a panic attack. But the Sheriff never came, and that pulled Stiles down even more. He knew that this wasn’t healthy, he could hear his dad’s voice ringing in his ears telling him it is okay to let go. It was the same thing he told him a few years after his mom died. This was different. He didn’t have parents anymore, he was just Stiles Stilinski, and that was what tore through him even more. What were the odds the he would lose both parents? His thoughts quickly squashed by the realization that the statistics went out the window when you lived in Beacon Hills.

The pit of regret and pain kept getting deeper and deeper. Embedding into his chest and stomach. His days blurred together, he tried to keep himself healthy. Showering regularly, trying to eat regularly. Melissa brought over food all the time, leaving it on the seat on Stiles’ Jeep. He was grateful but he didn’t want to talk to anyone still. He kept taking his adderall, like he knew his father would have wanted him to do, even though it somehow made everything worse. 

Stiles had decided to venture into the dining room, where notes and scattered information flooded the table. He plopped down in the seat, looking at the strung out mess that was his father’s thought process. It resembled his crime scene board in his room, but the organization was different. Stiles’ was more sporadic than John’s. As he filtered through the mess in front of him, that he wasn’t quite ready to clean up, his eyes fell on a large item sitting in the middle of the table. The amber liquid sitting just below full. His father’s last bottle of Jack. I wonder if he was right. Stiles thought eyeing the bottle. Without a second thought he stood, pulling the bottle from the table and walked back upstairs. Forgetting what he ever came down for in the first place. 

At first the liquid burned his throat. More than it had before when he snuck the bottle from his father and met with Scott in the woods. The burn was worse, but he knew it was because his throat was raw from his yells and cries. Something felt good about how the warmth bloomed in Stiles’ stomach after a few pulls, but it didn’t feel the same. There was a little bit of a buzz drawing in, but he felt dull effects. About an hour and 45 minutes later, Stiles had drained the bottle half way. His frustration peaked when he barely felt buzzed as he examined the bottle. Remembering that adderall dulls the noticeability of the alcohol affecting his body. 

Stiles finds himself standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom. Hands clutched around the rims of the stark white sink. He stared into the mirror. This doesn’t help. His mind fluttered back to Theo’s words. The boy’s honey brown eyes searched the reflection looking for anything that would spark the remembrance of himself - the fun, happy go lucky Stiles. All he saw was the Nogitsune, the Void staring back at him. His mind knew full well that the Nogitsune was banished from his body, and captured. But he couldn’t help hearing Theo’s words, and as every single letter rung in his adderall fueled mind he saw more and more of the void in front of him. A smirk lifted the corner of the reflections lips, a shaky hand reached to his own mouth, finding some relief that his own lips hung slack even though the reflection was fooling him. Anger surged through him. Why is this still happening?! How can it still trick me? With a yell Stiles slammed his fist into the center of the mirror spinning sparkling fragments into the air eventually landing on the floor around him.

Finally there was a reaction Stiles knew all too well. His heart sped up, tears pricked his eyes. He looked down at his right hand finding shards of glass stuck in his fingers and knuckles. The wound seemed so superficial, but there was more blood that he thought there should be. With a fumbling left hand, he pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed a number he hadn’t thought of in days.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The phone rang. Right before practice. Scott would have ignored it except the number that came across the screen with a big goofy grin hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. He walked over to the bleachers. “Stiles?” His voice low, filled with concern.

“S-Scott...I… I think something… something is wrong.” The sentence broken by sobs and slurred words.  
“Stiles?! What happened?” His heartbeat picking up.  
“I…” *click* The line went dead. Panic and fear pulsed through Scott, something was wrong with Stiles, and the worst part was that if Scott left the field right now Coach would hunt him down and wring his neck. It didn’t matter how good the excuse was this time. Before Coach noticed Scott was dialing another number. 

“Scott?” The voice was rough on the other line.  
“Something is wrong with Stiles. He just called me, and I… I think there is something wrong. I can’t get to him, can you please make sure he is okay?”  
“Really? They guy lost his dad.”  
“It is more than that.”  
“Okay, I was heading that way anyway. I’ll swing by.”  
“Thanks Derek.” Scott was getting yelled at by Coach so he left it at that and shoved his phone back into his bag.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Derek pulled up to the house he could smell the grief from his car. It wasn’t until he opened the unlocked front door that everything hit him. He searched for Stiles, following the smell of grief, fear, guilt, anxiety and a tang of adderall and… Was that Jack? Derek thought it could be left over from the Sheriff but it was too strong. His mind wandered as he took to the stairs. The next smell hit him and he was sprinting up the stairs. Blood, faint, but it was blood. 

Stiles wasn’t in his room, but his heartbeat was close, and fast. Faster than it should have been. A sob sliced the previous silence. Derek spun turning to the closed bathroom door. “Stiles?” Derek opened the door slowly. “Stiles are you okay?” he regretted the words as soon as they came out. The scene in front of him was anything but okay. Stiles was slumped against the wall, body shaking, eyes not making contact with Derek as he moved inside the room shutting the door behind him. When the door closed the smell of Jack lessened, but the anxiety and fear stung his eyes. Without thinking Derek grabbed Stiles at the base of his head and centered his face in front of his. Desperate for him to make eye contact.

“Stiles? Hey!” His voice a little harsh. “Dumbass!” That snapped him back. The honey brown orbs were frantically switched from each of Derek’s eyes. The mumbling started but Derek didn’t listen. He pulled a first aid kit from the cabinet and cleaned up the small cuts on Stiles’ knuckles.  
“So much blood.” The words were jumbled. The wolf’s brows furrowed, confusion set in. There wasn’t much blood at all, just little drops from his knuckles. They didn’t even need bandages. It was then that Derek saw the dark circles under his eyes, he faintly wondered when was the last time the boy actually slept. Stiles was like a limp noodle as Derek ushered him back into his room, and laid him on the bed. “Get some sleep Stiles.” He waited until Stiles had fallen asleep, then he cleaned up the mess in the bathroom and called Scott to tell him that he was okay, just exhausted.

Exhausted was an understatement. Derek felt exhausted too. He had been gone, things blew all to hell and it took all of his energy to drive back into Beacon Hills to try and pull the pieces back together. Finally he felt himself sag into the computer chair across from Stiles’ bed, eyelids fluttering until they came to a rest.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is your fault. This is your fault. Allison would be alive, Aiden would be alive. Hell you know both of your parents would be alive. It. Is. All. Your. Fault. 

No. Stiles’ body twitched.

No? It is your fault and now that you have caused everyone’s pain, you have no better reason Stiles. You are Void!Stiles! You know it in your heart. You know it, and you want to embrace it.

Another twitch jerked his body, all involuntary. Then the flashes of events started. Everything he ever did as a Nogitsune swarmed through his mind. Setting a trap for Coach, twisting the sword into Scott, setting off a bomb in the station, kidnapping Lydia, ordering the Oni to kill Allison, Scott’s pain when losing Allison, the attacks at the station and the hospital, killing Aiden. Stiles’ chest tightened. His heart rate jumped. He thought he might be able to calm himself down until the next stream of events punctured his mind.

Donovan’s body, Theo’s threat, their fight, then finally the image that settled in his view was his father, bloody and unresponsive as he lay on the floor of the basement the Dread Doctors used. His father’s eyes shot open. “You did this to me.” Those 5 words clamped down on his lungs like an iron fist. He couldn’t breath. He could hear screaming, he didn’t register that it was coming from him until he felt Derek’s heavy hand on his chest. Moments passed. He could hear Derek’s calming words. “Breath. In… one two, three. Out.” Repeating like his pack mantra. Eventually air crept its way into his lungs, the panic subsided but the overwhelming exhaustion did not. He locked eyes with Derek before sleep took over. 

It felt like eternity passed. When Stiles’ eyes peeled open it was getting close to dusk. A brief thought of how long he had been sleeping passed through his mind but it was pushed away when he remembered that Derek had been there, but he wasn’t here now. At least not in his room. It took the boy a moment to get out of bed, and stretch. He was still exhausted, but he didn’t want to stay in bed. Dressing himself in a fresh pair of jeans and a thin maroon hoodie he walked through the house and then right out the door surpassing his jeep. 

He walked for a while, until he came across the look out point. By the time he got there it was getting dark. He needed to think, free from the heavy air of the empty house. This spot, right here on a stump was the perfect place for him to just sit and think.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His phone buzzed again. This time Scott was in his room working on homework. His heart jumped thinking it might be Stiles. But a pang of sadness pierced his hope when he saw Derek’s name.  
“Hey Derek, how is Stiles?” He turned back to his Chem. book. “Gone. Scott he is gone.”  
“What? What do you mean?” Anxiety rushed through Scott’s veins. He slammed the book shut and then stormed from the house. It was only a matter of minutes before his dirt bike rumbled in the driveway next to the Camaro and the Jeep. But his jeep is here. He wasted no time getting into the house. He found Derek pacing is Stiles’ room.  
“How the hell did you let him leave?” Scott’s voice was fierce. Derek looked up, almost in shock.  
“I didn’t! I went to the store so I could fix his damn mirror. Then when I came back he was gone! I don’t know what you expected me to do.”  
“Not let him just wander off!” Scott was yelling now. The sound drowned out by a roar of thunder and the monsoon that started shortly after. “If he is out there in this weather, without his jeep… we have to find him!” Scott bolted out of the house trying to follow the scent of his best friend into the woods.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rain had soaked through this clothes. His body shivered a little bit, but he wasn’t going to go back just yet. Stiles hear a crack of twigs behind him. He knew Derek wouldn’t have followed him out into the woods in rain like this. Hit had to be Scott. “Go away.” He didn’t even turn to look.  
“No. Stiles what is going on? I want to help.” This pushed Stiles over the edge of anger again. His hands shaking he stood and turned to look at Scott. 

“Help me? Help me? Now you want to help me? You weren’t there to help me when Donovan died. You weren’t there when Theo stood in front of me on the rooftop of the hospital manipulating me with every word.” He was yelling now. “You weren’t there when I called Theo because I found Parrish taking the bodies, and when Theo told me that he was here for all of us, all of us but you. He was here for me… but not me… he. he was here for Void. He said I was still Void, I always would be.” 

Scott took this moment to interject. “I know you aren’t Void, I know you are not a murdering psychopath. Why would you believe Theo?” Stiles fidgets, arm slightly pumping from the direction of the ground to his waist. His head shaking curtly. “You already believed him Scott. Theo over me. Wolf over ME!” He jammed a forefinger into his own chest. Scott stammered backwards, stuttering before he could get the words out, not making eye contact with Stiles. “Because. Because he said… He said you beat him to death with your wrench. I saw the blood.” His whole body shaking now, realizing Scott never heard the full story. Never knew what had actually happened.

“No..I… I hit him.” His voice shook. “He attacked me, Scott. The jeep wouldn’t start. I had my wrench trying to f-fix it. Donovan attacked me. I-I hit him, then I ran. The library was a safe bet, but somehow he got in. We fought. He threatened me, he threatened my dad. I… I climbed up the scaffolding, trying to get away. His teeth…” Stiles’ hands jerked around in front of his mouth. “They… They were trying to bit me again… I reached for the pin, trying to knock him away. I-I didn’t mean for the rails to impale him. Scott… I panicked.. I… I even called 911. I didn’t say anything but I called. Then… then the body was gone.” There was silence for a moment. Stiles drug a soaked sleeve across his face trying to wipe the tears away. 

Scott moves to take a step closer. Immediately Stiles throws his hands up towards Scott. “D-Don’t. You were afraid of me before why would you come close to me now?” Scott looked back with his brow knit in confusion. Scott can smell the panic and the anxiety growing from Stiles. “Listen.” Scott tries to come closer, “I’m not afraid of you. Theo got into my head he..”  
“SCOTT!” Stiles yells, voice strained. “THEO KILLED MY DAD! I’m alone and I am being sucked back into the void.” His voice got small. Scott kept trying to figure out how he was going to fix this. 

“Stiles, it… it will be okay. You… it is going to take time, but we will get through this.” He kept trying to get closer to Stiles, but he kept backing away shaking his head. “WHAT’S THE POINT?!” Stiles voice rings out almost silencing the rain that is pouring down around them. It forces Scott to stop and think about what to say, but Stiles is shaking and starting to ramble. “I’m just a waste, I drag everyone down. I can’t… I can’t keep hurting people.” In a shaky fumble of movements Stiles pulls his father’s pistol from his waistband and presses the shining silver barrel to his temple. His other hand fidgeting at his side. It’s better this way. You know it is. These are words Scott doesn’t hear. Stiles’ eyes squeeze shut, tears streaming down his face. He sucks in a shaky breath, willing himself to not be a coward and cock the gun. Then he hears it. He hears Scott.

“St-Stiles… please…” The words separated by sobs. It was the tone that punched Stiles in the stomach. He opened his eyes to find Scott standing, tears flooding his face, it was the second time Stiles saw the alpha look utterly terrified. The last time Stiles saw that look was when they pulled Allison’s limp body from his arms. It hit Stiles like a ton of bricks. Suddenly the pistol felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Realization flooded his mind, the gun fell from his shaky hands to the wet ground by his sneakers. His body wobbled, knees feeling like jello. His body felt weak, panic scorches his stomach rushing to his chest. The seconds felt like years as his lungs clamped down inside him, closing off all access to oxygen.

“S-Sc..ott..”  
“Stiles!”  
“I-I Can...Can’t.. Brea..” Stiles fell to his knees grasping his chest. Scott was at his side in an instant. Hugging him to his alpha chest. “Breathe!” The alpha placed a hand on his best friend's chest, then pulled a cold shaky hand to his own. “Like me. In… out.. a little at a time. In… out..” 

Soon Stiles could breath, but he was dizzy. The reality of what he had almost done set in and he gripped Scott. Silent tears streaming down his rain soaked cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His voice strangled with emotion.  
“I’m sorry too man.. I should have believed you.” There was a silence. Then the two pulled away from each other. Stiles slowly regaining some strength. “Can we go home? It’s freaking wet.”  
“Yeah. Let’s get you home.” Scott smiled. Sensing the anxiety in Stiles lessening.  
“Wait. Damnit… I walked all the way out here.”  
“Let’s just go.” Scott almost laughed. 

The pair walked together in silence for a minute or two then Scott looked to Stiles and pulled him in with one arm. “If you ever think of trying something like that again… I’ll bite you so you can’t shoot yourself.” Stiles laughed at Scott’s words, knowing he would do it. “Thanks man.” It felt good to laugh like that. As they stepped into the clearing Stiles caught sight of the black Camaro and the leather clad figure. His stomach dropped when he saw Derek’s eyes. He knew Derek heard everything.

A couple weeks pass. Scott has been staying with Stiles at his house at night, making sure that his best friend is okay. Stiles doesn’t mind it, but he is starting to feel like Scott is trying to babysit the little human. Stiles insisted that he would be fine during the days so that Scott would leave him alone to go to school. He had finally told his best friend that he graduated early so he wouldn’t be coming back to school at all. He understood but the rest of the group might not. It was nice the first 5 minutes that Scott had left Stiles to himself. He plopped down on the foot of his bed. This finally gave him the time to decompress after what had almost happened in the woods.

As he rubbed his face with his hands he paused. Realizing that he had left the pistol out in the preserve at the look out point. Without thinking he got up and headed for his Jeep. His dad would have scolded him to no end if he had left his gun out in the woods for anyone to take. Stiles just prayed that it was still there as he drove through the woods. While walking from the clearing where he parked the Jeep the flashes of the that night bounced in his memory. Did he really have the courage to pull the trigger? You didn’t even cock the gun you idiot. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the shine of the pistol half buried in the leaves and dirt. Reaching down to pick it up he realized that no matter how hard it would have been, he wouldn’t have pulled the trigger. He would have found something else to do the job. Just knowing that sent a rock hard pit to his stomach. 

A snap of twigs and rustling of leaves jarred his thoughts and he spun around in a whirlwind of flapping arms. Derek stood with his hands in his pockets. “Whoa. Don’t announce yourself or anything sourwolf.” There was a moment of silence. Derek’s eyes piercing into Stiles. “Okay… what are you doing out here?” Derek stepped closer, but not with the caution that Scott had used. No, this was more fierce. “I should ask you the same thing. What the hell are you doing?” Stiles realized he was holding the pistol. He scratched his forehead.

“I.. I realized I left this out here, my dad would have killed me knowing I left it.” His heartbeat was steady. He knew Derek would be looking for a lie, but this was far from a lie. Not even close to any of the lies he had been telling over the years. “I was going to take it home, clean it and put it in Dad’s… my safe.” Stiles had started walking back toward the clearing where he parked his Jeep. He had just passed Derek’s stiff shoulder when his words stopped Stiles dead in his tracks.  
“I know you lied.”  
Stiles’ legs stopped moving. He turned, feeling his heart rate skyrocket. “What?” His voice quiet. Derek turned to look at Stiles, walking closer to him. “I know you lied when you agreed with Scott about this whole thing being the side effects of the Jack and adderall. Scott doesn’t.” Stiles’ lips opened and closed thinking about something to say. Derek’s ‘I’ll rip your throat out’ stare never helped Stiles think of something useful to say. Nothing was coming to his mind, so he shrugged then turned to keep walking again, but just like before he was stopped by Derek’s words.

“I found them.” Stiles felt a rush of panic that started right behind his eyes. He didn’t know if his heart would explode from how hard it was working. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” The words fell silently from Stiles’ mouth. He knew Derek would know it was a lie. Probably the biggest he has ever told. In a flash of leather Derek stood right in front of him. 

“Stiles I found your suicide notes.”


End file.
